An Act of Kindness
by Araesson's Storm
Summary: Since his birth, Blaise had been taught that the only way to make allies was to lie. To tell them what they needed to hear in order for them to trust you. It takes another to teach him that sometimes small acts of kindness, a small extension of trust, that can forge alliances far stronger, and far more fulfilling. One-shot


**I do not own anything, yay lets move on.**

 **Written for the Golden Snitch - Prompt of the Day: (title) An Act of Kindness**

 **Words without title/ author's note: 1062**

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 **An Act of Kindness**

Words of advice and instruction streamed through the young Zabini's mind, but in practice they seemed much more difficult to follow than in theory. Things like: _find out all you can about the others, but let them know nothing of you. Don't let another know your weakness. Observe them to find the best way to get them to trust you, but do not give them your trust in return. They would only use this against you, like you will them. Be polite. Act interested. Betray no real emotion. These people will test you- prove your worth, your cunning._

Blaise felt as if he was an injured deer thrown in the midst of a hungry wolf pack. He wasn't used to the attention, to the spotlight. In the grand ballroom, he didn't feel like he had a place to hide. He was greeted constantly by Heir's to other Grey and Dark families, to adults who were curious to see if the son inherited the traits of the beautiful, sly mother.

Outwardly, sure, he did. He had her cat-like, mahogany eyes, he knew. He's been told that one often enough. A lot of his facial features were her's, too. His hair was the only thing different- a dark brown, falling in gentle waves down his neck.

Inwardly, though? He felt far from his assured, witty mother. He felt weak and shaky in the middle of all of these people. His hands shook- he hid them behind his back, careful not to rub his sweaty palms into the expensive fabric of his dress robes. Blaise stuttered through words. This fault was not so easy to hide. He'd taken to trying to avoid conversation where he could, and to keep it short where he couldn't. Blaise couldn't disappoint his mother. This was his time to show his worthiness, his usefulness to a mother who'd seen him as little more than a burden. He could be a burden or a trophy, he knew realistically. At least trophies were shiny and admired. He could live with that- he could not live with being a disgrace.

"Heir Zabini?"

Inwardly he cursed, but he forced a small smile as he turned to face the feminine voice. He met grey eyes, and recognized Heiress Greengrass from his mother's quick rundown of the who's who when they had first arrived. He hadn't actually interacted with the girl yet, but he'd watched her talk to the others. She acted as the perfect pureblood Heiress should, polite and charming, with a disarmingly pretty smile that never reached her cold grey eyes. He knew those eyes- those were the eyes of someone who _saw._ Daphne Greengrass wasn't naive, wasn't stupid. She knew people, she knew how to twist them to her tune with simple words even at this young age. A born diplomat.

"Uh," he floundered for a moment, not reading anything from those grey eyes. Most eyes he could read effortlessly- these were like ice. The eyes of an Ice Queen, he thought absently.

Daphne smiled, her eyes as cold as always, "It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance. I am Heiress Daphne Greengrass."

She didn't offer her hand in the traditional greeting, and he was thankful for that. His hands were sweaty and trembling, and it would only embarrass him. However, guessing she knew about his nervousness and was just trying to be tactful made him go pink anyway. Blaise just could not win.

"Would you like to accompany me outside?" Daphne asked. Blaise let out a sigh of relief, having thought for one horrible moment that she'd ask him to dance with her. He could dance well enough, but not when he was this anxious he didn't want to risk it. Outside sounded good, away from the eyes of all of these people.

"Of course." he replied, the relief evident in his voice no matter how he tried to mask it. Blaise offered his arm to the girl, and she accepted. They made their way out of the grand ballroom of the Malfoy Manor, and to the gardens outside. The night air was a bit chilly, but not unbearable. The chill served to calm his nerves a little.

The Greengrass Heiress turned to him, a genuine look of concern touching her eyes (the first emotion he'd seen in them), "Are you doing better?"

He nodded absently, before his head jerked to look at her, embarrassed. If she'd noticed, who else had? Who else had seen this weakness of the young Zabini, seen a weakness to exploit? Was that Daphne's goal? To get his trust? He tensed at the thought, looking away from the Heiress and letting his gaze fall on the blooming plants, anything but her.

In a delicate, cautious voice, Daphne advised, "I find, when I'm nervous, that creating a steady beat in my mind and focusing on that helps. Like you would with music. When I went to my first social event I spent every conversation tapping my finger to my other wrist behind my back to make sure I didn't talk too fast."

Blaise brought his gaze back to the girl, sensing vulnerability there. She looked uncertain, almost fearful- the same emotions he felt when he knew he'd exposed a weakness to another. Yet, she'd done it anyways. Out of kindness, or a wish to make him trust her…?

Looking at her face, he couldn't believe she was attempting to get his trust only to backstab him. It may have had an ulterior motive behind it, but he doubted she meant him any harm, looking at suddenly unguarded grey eyes.

She extended a little trust, so he nodded in acceptance, extending a little back. He began to tap a slow, steady beat, curious if it would work.

 _1, 2, 3, 4, 1, 2, 3, 4, 1, 2, 3, 4, 1, 2, 3, 4…_

He was pleasantly surprised that it did have a somewhat calming effect. Blaise offered the other girl a small smile in thanks, and was pleased to see the smile reach her eyes in return.

It was that day that he learned that sometimes small acts of honest trust and kindness could create a new ally just as well as lies could, if he approached the right person with the technique. The lesson was the sole lesson he didn't learn from his mother, and personally it was his favorite.

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 **This can be taken as set before the events of Not a Dream. I kind of had those interpretations in mind when writing this... Not a Dream is going to forever poison my thoughts of all of these Harry Potter characters... sigh.**

 **Thank you for reading!**


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